Psychiatrists Love Dreams
by Krazzy Kezz
Summary: *Because it’s partners’ therapy. And we’ve got to talk about something in there* -Booth accidentally lets slip a bit more about his pony play dream... how will Brennan react?


_**ATTN: Sorry folks if you get some kind of alert - I just effed up and accidentally replaced this with a chapter of another story and had to switch it back!**_

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"You sleeping okay?"  
Brennan looked up from the magazine that she had been trying to read over her partners shoulder to make a small noise and nod her head.  
Booth continued to flick the pages of the magazine before she could see what was on them. "Not anxious, depressed or irritable?"  
"I'm not really that way," she replied, wondering what her partner was trying to get at.  
"Well what about issues with your Dad? I mean, maybe visiting him brought up old wounds?" Booth continued, abandoning the magazine to lean back into the couch and look at her.

Now she was really curious. "Why?" she asked quickly.  
"Why? Because it's partners' therapy. And we've got to talk about something in there," Booth explained.  
"Why?" Temperance questioned again, clearly not understanding.  
"Because if we don't, he'll think that we've got stuff to hide and recommend that we find new partners!" Booth exclaimed, turned to look at her for a short moment. And there's no way I'm letting him do that, Booth finished internally.

There was a short silence as Brennan contemplated this statement. When she didn't respond immediately, Booth hunched forward again and continued to flick the pages of the magazine in front of him.  
"You want to make something up?" Tempe asked with a small grin.  
Booths face scrunched up briefly in thought. "Na, Dr Wyatt's too smart," he replied.  
"There's got to be something to talk about," Brennan stated reasonably.  
"You know, I had a dream …" Booth began, his eyes flicking toward the ceiling.  
"Well psychiatrists like dreams, right?" she asked him.  
"They love dreams! I mean, the way you love skeletons," Booth agreed, nodding and gesturing with his hand.  
"Well what was your dream about?" Tempe encouraged.  
Booth shifted uncomfortably and fiddled with his hands, a grimace on his face. "Okay, well look. It's totally understandable I had this dream given what we uh you know kinda saw this week…"  
Temperance tried to withhold her laughter and nearly succeeded, only letting out a small snort or amusement.

"You had a pony play sex dream?"

Oh my god, she thought to herself. Wow. Was not expecting that.

"Nooo …" Booth cringed, shaking his head. You idiot! Why did you have to go say something in the first place, he berated himself.  
"Were you a rider or a pony?" Brennan asked, a huge smile on her face. I know I'd ride – Temperance Brennan! Stop having those thoughts about you partner right this instant!

"Look, you know what, I'm sorry I brought it up." As he said this, Booth turned toward her slightly, but avoided her gaze, not game to meet her eyes.  
"Who was your pony play sex partner?" Brennan asked curiously.

There was a heavy silence as Booth, refusing to answer, stared sullenly at his shoes. Temperance laughed.

As the sound of her giggling, Booth looked up briefly to glare at her. Deciding to cut her partner some slack, Tempe stopped laughing and took a few deep breaths to calm herself, still smiling broadly.

She leaned back into the couch, not listening to the quietly mumbled ranting coming from Booths direction. Her mind a hazy whirlwind of visualisations and thoughts – pony play, Booth naked, their making love conversation, Booth and her together, laws of physics, her undressing him as they – STOP! Temperance screamed at herself. She could feel herself blushing furiously, and she forced herself to focus on something else.

Booths continued mutterings broke her reverie. "Stupid dreams... stupid pony play people..." he grumbled, barely audible.

"Were you a pony or a rider?" he mimicked his partner. "Stupid questions, stupid murderers... it's all your fault anyway..."

"I beg your pardon?" Temperance exclaimed indignantly. "What's my fault?"

Instantly, Booth flushed red, but remained silent, once again keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his feet.

"How is you having a – oh!" realisation struck her. "Me? You had a pony play sex dream..."

Her voice dwindled away leaving the sentence unfinished. Booth continued saying nothing, though his face and neck turned an impossibly darker shade.

"So..." Temperance began. "Were you a rider or a pony?"

"Bones!" Booth exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief.

"What? What's wrong with me being curious?" she asked innocently. "Anyway, don't I have a right to know? It was me that you were dreaming about after all!"

"Can we just forget this entire conversation? Please?" Booth begged, avoiding eye contact once again.

Brennan huffed, annoyed. "Anthropologically, it is completely natural for you to have sex dreams about me. Given the amount of time we spend together, and the fact that we are both reasonably well structured and at prime mating age - "

Brenna was cut off by Booths hands gripping the sides of her head, pulling her forward slightly and his lips pressing firmly against hers. For a moment, she was too stunned to reply, but she soon began to reciprocate eagerly. Booths tongue ran across her lips seeking entrance, which she gave without hesitance. Their tongues met, flavours mingled, fireworks exploded.

All too soon, Booth pulled away, leaning his forehead against Temperance, breathing heavily. Before she could properly gather her thoughts, Booth spoke.

"There is not a moment of the day that you are not on my mind Temperance Brennan. You are in my dreams; you're the first thing on my mind when I wake up, when I'm working, as I eat my dinner. I'm thinking of you as I testify in the courtroom, as we're chasing a suspect, and you're the last thing on my mind as I fall asleep. You're amazing Bones; by far the most spectacular person I have ever met. It would be impossible not to be spellbound by you."

Temperance was silent, shocked and awed as she stared deep into her partner's eyes. In that moment she conceded that the theory of people's eyes being windows to their souls could in fact be possible.

"Bones, believe me when I say that this has nothing to do with biological urges. What I feel for you is so, so much deeper than that. So that dream about... that stuff – it was just a stupid dream. It doesn't mean anything."

"Well, that's all very well and good Booth, but, seeing as I feel exactly the same way about you, I have to say that I'm pretty interested in exploring that whole 'making love' concept of yours. But if you don't want too..."

"You know what? I don't think this appointment is so important all of a sudden. What do you say we get out of here?" Booth suggested quickly, slapping his hands on his thighs as he rose quickly from the couch. He turned back around to stare softly down at her, his hand held out as an invitation.

"I say that you, Special Agent Seeley Booth, are a genius," Temperance grinned, grasping his hand and allowing him to pull her up to him

"Why, thankyou Dr Brennan. Your chariot awaits, milady," Booth declared, bowing slightly, his arm sweeping in the direction of the exit.

Still smiling broadly, Brennan turned and sashayed toward the door. "Coming Booth?" she called over her shoulder to her partner, who was still bent over in his bow, staring goofily at her retreating form.

"Couldn't stop me if you tried!" he replied happily, bounding toward her, his hand taking up its familiar residence in the small of her back, steering them down the corridor.

"Why would I..."

Dr Wyatt chuckled as the sound of their friendly bickering was cut off by the closing door. They realise they're madly in love with each other because of a pony play sex dream, he thought to himself, shaking his head. Then a thought hit him.

"Case related!" he crowed to the empty consultation room, British mannerisms forgotten, as he picked up the handset on his desk and dialled a number. "Deputy Director Cullen? I do believe you owe me fifty dollars."

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